


Witchful Thinking

by BladedDarkness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1362421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladedDarkness/pseuds/BladedDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A magic-infused Storybrooke brings challenges to the celebration of Halloween.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Emma, please!”

“I said no, Henry. I'm not gonna wear that,” Emma said, heaving a sigh before taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

Henry looked at her with pleading eyes. “C'mon, Ma,” he begged, spooning another bite of his cereal. “It'll be fun. And we'll match and everything.”

Emma seriously doubted it, on both counts. Halloween was scrounging together something that could be construed as an attempt at a costume and sneaking out of the children's home, only to be bullied out of your spoils on the way back. It had ceased to be fun by the time Emma hit double digits.

And, she sulked internally, Henry's costume didn't have a cape. A _white_ cape. There was no way she was walking around Storybrooke, dressed as some white knight, just because Henry was eagerly embracing his Enchanted Forest heritage.

At least the biological part of it.

“Look, kid, I'm just not comfortable with it.”

“Ma, everyone is going to be dressing up as who they were.”

“Even your Mom?”

His nose crinkled at that. “She's not invited.”

Great, Emma mused. She was going to be expected to mingle and play nice, and listen to tales about how the 'old country' was, and Regina wouldn't even be there to break up the monotony. There would be no one to talk with about just how decidedly not-great Emma had found the Enchanted Forest to be during her brief and unwanted trip there. She was sure the other woman had no rose-tinted glasses on about the other land.

She shook the thought away as Henry prodded her again. “Shouldn't I be a baby then?”

“You've always been the Savior, Ma.”

Except for the first twenty-eight years of her life. And now she was pretty much treated like the solution to every problem, every day. Why did a dumb outfit that embodied all her reservations about her title have to be required? Couldn't she just dress up as something cool, without all the pressure?

It was annoying. She would always be the Savior, it seemed. And Regina would apparently always be the Evil Queen. And if you asked the majority of Storybrooke, they always had been.

Emma rubbed her forehead. “Henry, I don't want to dress up like some hero. That's not me. It never has been. I'm not wearing it.”

The intensity of the little eyes staring up at her startled Emma. His lips tugged downwards, but the ends curled up, creating a weird combination that looked like a bizarre cross between Regina's sneer and Neal's old puppy face. “You still can't accept it, can you?” He shook his head. “I wish you'd see yourself the way everyone in Storybrooke does,” he muttered, shoving his spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

The cloud of purple smoke caused him to nearly choke. Henry hastily swallowed his mouthful, waving his hands through the thick miasma as if that would quicken its dispersal. He expected to see his mother, hands upon her hips with her glare upon Emma. Not a gurgling bundle upon the couch, blanket firmly around the noisemaker. And certainly not his blonde mother, seemingly standing far taller than usual in her white knight costume, albeit minus the cape and plus sword in hand. Henry admired the sight for a second, pleased that her curls behaved enough to stay flowing down her back rather than catching in the costume.

“Um,” he started, finally directing his attention to the squalling child, “where did the baby come from?”

Emma leaned over to peer at it closely. “Dunno. I can find out though.” Henry reached out to pull down the blanket for a better view. “Don't touch it! It could be dangerous.”

“It's a baby, Ma,” he replied with an eye roll. “He can't even bite me.”

“You don't know that. Magic is dangerous and a baby coming from nowhere is suspicious, kid.”

Henry decided not to comment on the fact that the magic had redressed Emma for whatever reason and she wasn't freaking out about that. “What are we going to do with him?”

“It's a she,” Emma corrected, having finally managed to carefully pull away the thick layers. “And assuming she's not a crazy magic baby, I guess we find her parents.”

“Whose parents?” asked Snow as she came in the front door, blinking in surprise at the suddenly loud cry. “Where did you find a baby?”

“On the couch,” shrugged Emma, finally sheathing her sword and leaning against the arm of the sofa. Before she could stop her, Snow had reached down and was cooing at the little girl in her arms, who quieted down rapidly.

Charming trudged into the apartment, quickly setting aside the groceries. He looked bewildered between his wife, daughter, and grandson before cautiously peering at his wife's arms.

“Emma?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah?”

“No,” Charming said as he shook his head, pointing, “the baby. That's Emma.”

“Um, hello? I'm right here, looking all Savior-y.”

“Charming,” started Snow, before he cut her off.

“It's Emma,” he urged. “You don't sword fight with your little girl in your arms and not recognize her.”

If she counted only her Storybrooke years, this week was headache-inducing.

The town's decision to celebrate their past lives had brought her wrongdoings to the forefront of everyone's minds. And while the adults were too occupied with preparations to form another mob at her door when she had been on her semi-best behavior, their children did not have the same constraints.

Shaving cream and eggs had decorated her house every day for the last week, Regina too stubborn to call upon Sheriff Swan – and perhaps too afraid she would bring along Henry, the distinct slump of his shoulders (and didn't she teach him better than that?) and the younger woman's watchful eye an all too clear sign that he was not-so-willingly there. Sticky gumdrops were attached to her mailbox, and Regina was sure that was Gretel's contribution to the assorted food products plaguing her property.

Worse yet, the insufferable children had made a game of absolutely infuriating her by daring each other to touch her precious - 

A flash of movement through the window distracted Regina from her thoughts, and she rushed outside.

“Get down from there!” she commanded, glaring up at the teenager.

Green eyes peered down at her from behind thick rims. “Why?” She reached up and plucked a crimson fruit from the branch above the one she was currently reclining on.

“Because I doubt your parents want you on my property, dear.”

The girl chuckled and hooked her legs around the limb before leaning back, and Regina took a few startled steps backwards as the teen hung upside down a few scant inches from her face. “Wouldn't mind seeing that.” She took a loud bite of her stolen apple before abruptly falling to the ground and somehow managing to land on her feet in a move that Regina would have previously thought impossible given the limited distance she had to work with.

Slim fingers pushed her glasses back up the brim of her nose as Regina suddenly took in her appearance. Scuffed sneakers, skintight jeans, a thin long-sleeved shirt, and a mockery of that red leather jacket she so loathed.

She had seen quite a few girls dressed up as Emma Swan earlier, tacky red jackets donned in hero worship of the Savior. Those were little girls from the younger years of the school, however, with little sense of identity or the ability to separate themselves from their Storybrooke counterparts that they had lived with for twenty-eight years. The blonde in front of her appeared to be around sixteen, however, and was either quite good at mimicking Sheriff Swan's unique way of irritating her or it was just the girl's natural charm.

“What's your name, dear?”

The girl bit her lip, weighing her response – most likely against the possibility of getting in further trouble. “Emma Swan,” she finally blurted, chin raised.

Regina smirked. “Really, dear?”

“Yeah.” She shoved her hands into her pockets and leaned against the tree.

“Try again.”

The girl's cocky grin faded. “What, seriously?”

“I am quite serious, yes.”

“But that's my name,” she protested.

“I'm sure.” Regina leaned in. “But it happens to be the sheriff's name, and you are definitely not her.”

The blonde bit back a laugh. “Sheriff doesn't sound my style. I hope your Swan fits the bill better.”

“Hardly.”

The teen shrugged.

“How about I take you to see her?” asked Regina, eyes glittering. She had to admit that the girl, while annoying, was less irritating than the fools that had been harassing her all week – her audacity with her apple tree notwithstanding.

“No,” the teenager drawled, suddenly bolting passed the mayor. “I think I'm good,” she called over her shoulder.

The blonde didn't see the older woman smirk and disappear in a cloud of purple, but she felt the sudden tug as Regina snagged the collar of her jacket and purred, “I insist,” before a puff of smoke filled her vision and she was suddenly standing in the middle of an apartment.

“What the hell!” she yelped, backing away from the mostly surprised group in front of her.

Regina furrowed her brow at the screaming infant held to Snow's chest. “I'm wondering the same thing.” She did a double take. “What on earth are you wearing, Miss Swan?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone missed it, these chapters are being put up in chunks on Tumblr at thedrabblequeen before being compiled into a chapter and posted.

“What on earth are you wearing, Miss Swan?”

“I'm the Savior,” Emma deadpanned. “Who's the kid?”

Regina pursed her lips. “I'm well aware, Sheriff. And she,” said Regina, pointing to the teen trying vainly to edge along the wall unnoticed, eyes wary, “claims to be you.”

“Me?”

“I found her vandalizing my apple tree, so absurdity aside, it's not outside the realm of possibility,” continued Regina as if she hadn't heard her.

“It was one time,” Emma sighed, exasperated.

“That is one time more than it had occurred before, dear.”

“Mom,” said Henry, tugging on Regina's sleeve to distract his mothers before their bickering devolved into their usual showdown. The fight rushed out of the brunette in a surprised whoosh. “Is she really Emma?”

“I don't see how,” Regina mused. “I know of no magic that can duplicate or separate a person where the imposter is a different age from the original.”

The teen stopped her crawl towards the door, stunned. Magic?

“What about the baby?”

“Henry!” warned Snow.

Regina blinked, frowning at the younger brunette.

“I made a wish and there was purple smoke and then a baby on the couch and Ma was different,” blurted Henry.

“You're saying the child is Miss Swan?”

“We think so,” admitted Snow.

“It is,” David confirmed.

Regina straightened up slowly. “Then we might have a problem.” She smoothed down her skirt. “What was the wish?”

“It,” Emma started, then furrowed her brow. “I don't remember,” she finally added, puzzled. “I was here, though, when Henry made the wish.”

The teen let out a yelp as the door she'd silently opened ripped itself from her fingers and slammed shut. Regina ignored her, though Snow and David again peered at her curiously.

“The wish, Henry,” Regina prodded.

“I wanted Emma to see how everyone in Storybrooke knows she's the Savior,” he admitted. “She doesn't think of herself that way,” Henry muttered, crossing his arms.

“Well, that explains the ridiculous outfit,” Regina said, again looking the Savior over slowly. “You're the Savior. And I can assume that you two still see Miss Swan as your little girl. So where do you belong?” she pondered, turning thoughtfully to the teenager that was crouched by a window.

“Nowhere,” the young blonde said quickly. “I mean, I clearly don't belong here, with that... purple stuff – ”

“Magic,” smirked Regina.

“That. Right. So I'll just be on my way,” the teen said, flashing an uncomfortable grin and fingering the hem of her jacket.

“And where will you go?”

“Well, Emma hesitated, frowning, “where am I, actually?”

Regina gave a mayoral smile. “Storybrooke, Maine.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Storybrooke, seriously?” She scoffed. “God, I hate Maine.”

“And why is that, dear?”

“Well being abandoned on the side of a highway to nowhere might have something to do with it,” snarked the teen, eyebrow raised in challenge. 

“I suppose so,” allowed Regina. “Regardless, Storybrooke is quite off the beaten path, so you might find it quite... difficult, shall we say, to leave.”

“Look, lady, I'm sure I can hitch a ride outta here. I've basically spent my life on the side of the road.”

“That doesn't surprise me,” Regina stated, eying the teen.

Emma flushed. “I didn't mean – ”

“You don't have to go,” Snow cut in, shooting the mayor a look. “You can stay here.”

“I don't want to stay here.”

The Savior clasped her younger counterpart's shoulder. “C'mon, you'll be safe here.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Right. I'm totally safe in the place where people do,” she gestured towards the mayor offhandedly, “that teleporting thing.”

“That's just Regina.” The older blonde rolled her shoulders. “I'll protect you.”

The teen crossed her arms, shrugging away. “I don't need protection.”

Regina chuckled. “That explains a few things.”

“Hey, you love the kid.” She ruffled Henry's hair, ignoring his indignant “Ma!” as she smiled at Regina.

“Yes, well, someone decent had to come from your line eventually. And my son clearly is more nurture than nature, when it comes to manners.”

“Shit,” the teen whispered, drawing attention back to herself and paler than she had been after experiencing Regina's magic, eyes locked on Henry. “That's mine?”

There was a scrape of keys in the lock and the sheriff swept in. “Uh,” she flicked her eyes over the group, lowering her keys, “what's going on? And please tell me I have a twin and this isn't magic bullshit.”

“Oh, it's magic, sheriff,” confirmed Regina, enjoying the look of utter dismay crossing the uniformed blonde's face. “There seems to be – ”

“Nuh-uh, I don't wanna know. I'm going to get a drink and this,” she gestured at the other blondes and gave a critical look at the baby, “needs to be gone or resolved when I get back,” she said, snapping the door shut behind her.

There was a moment of silence as they listened to the pounding footsteps fade away, then Henry asked, “Should we really let her go?”

“I don't like her drinking in public with my face,” the Savior frowned, then added, “Or in uniform.”

David slumped down onto the couch. “We went from one daughter to four,” he moaned.

“Two of which are older than you,” chuckled Regina before trailing off. “Three Emma Swans,” she said weakly, “and a baby.” She clutched Henry faintly in horror. “This is disastrous.”

Henry watched his mother who looked vaguely sick. “Are there any more Emmas?”

“Well we don't have room for any more,” Snow said, slightly high-pitched and Henry frowned, looking around him. His family was freaking out, which was weird considering they were fairy tales, but he guessed split alter-egos was a bit more of a superhero plot point than an issue in fairy tales.

“We can't just throw them out,” argued Emma, fidgeting in her armor. “One is underaged and another is an infant.”

“And you can't leave this one inside a tree, Snow,” Regina snarked dryly. “Who knows where she would wind up this time, because I doubt the shoulder of the highway would be her destination twice.”

A door slammed at the top of the stairs and they looked around to find the teenager gone.

“Bit of a sore point?” David asked glumly.

“You think she's put together that Grandma and Gramps are her parents?” Henry fidgeted awkwardly.

“It hasn't exactly come up, and this is a bit outside her area of expertise. Namely theft and vandalism.”

“She's not stupid, Regina,” Emma pointed hotly. “Or a crook.”

“I disagree on both counts, Miss Swan. She's you, after all.”

Ruby frowned as the bell rang and looked up from her book with a sigh. This world has so many more species of wolves than the Enchanted Forest had, and so many different outlooks on werewolves – not all of which were flattering. She just wanted to know a little more about her 'cousins' here. If someone could stop entering the diner every five minutes.

Still, the unfamiliar girl looked skittish so Ruby put on a smile and whistled appreciatively. “Nice jacket, girl,” she remarked, watching her blush. “You supposed to be our sheriff?”

“Sorta,” she muttered, wiping the drops of rain off of her glasses. “Can I get a hot chocolate?” She fumbled around and pulled out a handful of change.

Ruby nodded and set about making the cup. “So what are you doing out on a night like this?”

“Thanks,” the teen smiled, taking the cup and sipping, furrowing her brow. “Cinnamon?”

“Oh shoot, I'm sorry, that's kind of a White-Swan-Mills thing.”

“Right. It's fine. Just never thought about it before. It's... nice.” She waved Ruby off, who was already reaching to make another cup. “And to answer your question, I just needed an escape.”

“Yeah, I gotta get away from Granny sometimes too,” replied Ruby, wincing as she picked up a low comment from the back in return.

“It's not that. There was just this lady, with a tree and this purple voodoo – ”

“Regina?” Ruby sat up straighter.

“I think so?”

“Have you been living under a rock? What are you doing messing with the Queen?”

The blonde blinked at her. “I thought she was the mayor,” she said slowly.

“Yeah, yeah, she is. Look, I dunno how you missed the memo, but stay away from Regina, okay? How did you even get mixed up with her?”

The teen was silent for a moment, “I was hungry.”


End file.
